Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic
by Marcielle's Musings
Summary: In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince we see Harry become both a potions and DADA genius while learning more than he ever thought about one Tom Marvolo Riddle. But what would Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts be like if Harry was a different person?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic

**Author: **Marcielle

**Summary: **In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince we see Harry become both a potions and DADA genius while learning more than he ever thought about one Tom Marvolo Riddle. But what would Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts be like if Harry was a different person?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. Thankfully, J.K. Rowling _does_ own Harry Potter because if _I_ owned Harry Potter... well it would certainly be a bit more chaotic.

**A/N: **This is my third fanfiction on this site and I love how it is turning out so far. I know it may not be wise to be writing three stories at the same time but I could not resist writing this one. Fear not, my lovely readers, for I shall not abandon my other fanfictions! Now I give you the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: <em>Remembering <em>**

Harry had only been at the Dursley residence for a few days before he had received a letter from Dumbledore saying that he was to be moved to the Burrow and that Dumbledore "would be glad of his assistance in a matter to which he hoped to attend to on the way to the Burrow."

'In other words, Dumbledore wants me to do something for him in exchange for going to the Burrow so early.' Harry sardonically thought. I mean, sure he was overjoyed to be going back to the Burrow after such as short time at the Dursley's but... he didn't like how he had no say in where he was living. First he was removed from the Dursley's and taken to Grimmauld Place and then he had to go to Hogwarts and when he begged to stay at Hogwarts he was moved back to Privet Drive. Now he was to be "escorted to the Burrow" by Albus Dumbledore himself. Harry loved the Weasley's and he was thrilled to be going to the Burrow but he was just being a moody teenager for the sake of being a moody teenager... because he could and because he felt like being grumpy.

"Well I certainly deserve the right to be grumpy..." grumbled Harry to himself, "I mean, look at my life so far!"

Looking back on his life Harry thought, 'First my parents give birth to me in the middle of a bloody war and then they are killed in said war by a psychopath. Then, orphaned by a war I had no say in, I was dropped on the doorstep of my hateful Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and left to suffer ten years of abuse and neglect. And then, when I am finally rescued from this hell hole, I am taken to a magical school where I find out that one of my teachers is possessed by the psychopath that murdered my parents. Obviously he tries to kill me again... and then after the second attempt on my life by Voldy he tries to kill me again in my second year. A memory of Mouldy Shorts when he was a student at Hogwarts possessed yet _another_ person and tried to kill all of the Muggleborn students at Hogwarts by unleashing a basilisk.' Harry cynically thought to himself.

'Yet _again_, me, a mere _student_, am forced to save the day and almost get eaten in the process! First by a nest of Acromantulas and then the Slytherin Basilisk gives eating me a try' Harry continued to rant in his mind as he stomped around his room 'And don't even get me started on the complete air-head we had for a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher...' Harry thought with a guttural growl as his lips pealed back in a snarl at the thought of the pathetic defence against the dark arts teachers that he had over the years. The only good teacher Harry had had for Defence against the Dark Arts was Remus Lupin a.k.a. Mooney in his third year.

'Needless to say, third year was just confusing...' Thought Harry as he stopped pacing and flopped down on his bed.

'I thought that Sirius Black, the mass murderer, betrayer of my parents and honorary godfather, was out to kill me but he wasn't and it turned out that he wasn't a mass murderer and the betrayer of my parents. However, by the time I found that interesting little titbit out I almost got eaten _again_ but this time by a werewolf who happened to _also_ be my defence against the dark arts teacher. But Mooney turned out alright in the end... and Sirius offered me a place to stay once he was cleared of all charges ' Harry trailed off as he lay back on the bed and looked out the window, a melancholy atmosphere descending on the room at the thought of Sirius.

"And fourth year..." Harry said aloud, tearing his eyes away from the window to try to stop the depression that usually followed thinking about _that _particular year at Hogwarts. 'Well first I got entered into the Triwizard Tournament by a Death Eater who is disguised as... here I'll let you guess... yep! My Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who tried to kill me again... why am I not surprised...?' Harry disdainfully thought as he stared off at the ceiling.

'Then Ron refuses to speak to me until I almost get eaten **_again!_** But this time by a dragon...' thought Harry with contempt.

"I must taste bloody delicious for all of these things to want to eat me" said Harry with a smirk as he grinned up at the ceiling.

'Then I almost drown in the Black Lake trying to save Ron, who refused to be my friend in the beginning of the year and then in the Third Task... Cedric gets murdered by Wormtail, Voldemort is resurrected, he tries to kill me, I escape and try to tell people that Voldemort is alive... no one believes me and my Defence against the Dark Arts teacher tries to kill me for the second time that year!' thought Harry furiously as he picked at the edge of his t-shirt.

"Someone **_really _**needs to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore about his crappy choices for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position," Harry snarled, "I mean don't they run background checks? Or have them checked for things like polyjuice potion or how about another head sticking out somewhere?" sitting up and climbing off his bed Harry moved back to packing his trunk.

'And then we had the _fabulous_ fifth year...' thought Harry with fury as he rummaged through his wardrobe to try and find any clothes that actually fit him. 'First we get **_another_** incompetent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Umbitch the pink toad,' thought Harry with a snarl when he saw the scar on his hand while picking a shirt up off of his floor which proudly proclaimed "_I must not tell lies"_

'Then the usual happened, really... she tries to kill me and Voldy does something evil. But this time Sirius dies trying to save me and my friends who _I_ put in danger.' Harry thought as a tense, heavy atmosphere filled the room once more.

"Every single bloody year something happens!" Harry sighed with frustration, giving up on his packing when he realised that for the past five minutes he had been folding and then unfolding the same shirt.

Sprawling out on his floor Harry stared up at the ceiling, picking out the cracks and spider webs that had accumulated while he had been at Hogwarts and then in a raspy interpretation of Professor Trelawney "_I predict that Voldemort or someone affiliated with Voldemort will do something evil, I will almost die because of something the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher does and some ferocious beastie will try to eat me because I taste delicious. So Mote It Be._"

Unfortunately, as soon as Harry finished his fake prophesy he burst out laughing.

"This year is going to make me go bald... I just know it" Harry muttered forlornly as he went back to packing. Everything was happening so quickly. Yet, for the past week all Harry had done was sit and laze around in his room at Privet Drive and think. And this was where Harry's thoughts had taken him; to a world of complete madness and chaos. But Harry's thoughts were also a very perilous place to be... so filled with sadness, dread, guilt, pain, frustration, loneliness and rage that the cutting nature of Harry's painful memories slowly began dull and the pain they caused, numbed by how many times Harry had gone over them. Now in the place of the old 'guilt-ridden Harry' was a sardonic and cynical young man who liked to wreak havoc and analyse the actions of others.

But there is a reason that Harry changed into what he is now. For, you see, since the battle at the Ministry of Magic, just over two weeks ago where Sirius had been killed Harry had been frantically trying to teach himself Occlumency so that one of his friends wouldn't be the next to die because of one of Harry's mistakes. After Harry had been returned to Hogwarts by Dumbledore and told that Sirius' death was on his shoulders because he didn't learn Occlumency... Harry had fallen into a depressed stupor during the day that not even his friends could pierce but at night, as he lay in his bed, his mind sharpened to a very critical and calculating state that Harry liked to call his 'Slytherin Side'. So one night, instead of sleeping he decided to sneak into the Restricted Section of the Library to find out any information that would help him to learn Occlumency. Covered in his invisibility cloak with his footsteps muffled with a quick '_silencio'_, Harry made his way deep into the Restricted Section and browsed the shelves until he found possibly one of the most useful books he had ever come across; Mind Magick.

The book was an English Translation of the original Runic text with the Runic words on one line and the English translation below it. Flicking through the table of contents Harry had discovered the descriptions of and directions for many meditation techniques, rituals, something called _Astral Journeys_ and _Astral Temples_, Occlumency and other elements of Mind Magick. Harry had been stunned when he first found the book. This was a whole new branch of magic that Harry had not known existed until now. If this was true, what more had he missed? Were his thoughts.

However, unlike the half-baked explanation that Harry had received from Dumbledore and Snape which basically was, "This will protect your mind from Voldemort - learn it." the book actually explained what Occlumency _was_, what it _did_, and how it could actually benefit him. It turns out that there are two ways to learn Occlumency; the fast and brutal way that Snape had tried at Dumbledore's insistence, which according to the book is a very unsuccessful method that "is just as likely to split a person's mind apart and turn it to mush then teach them the refined art of Occlumency".

"Why am I not surprised that Snape was trying to torture me...?" Harry sighed when Harry had read that last line after smuggling the book out of the Library and up to his dorm. Reading in his bed the book had continued to mention the second way of learning Occlumency which took years of patience and practice. This method focused on the basics of meditation, organising your thoughts and memories and revolved around the idea of a 'calm' mind and the clarity it brings. To Harry, the second method sounded a lot like the things that he had heard about Buddhism while still going to school in the Muggle World.

So after reading the introduction of the book the night before, while Harry was seated on the Hogwarts Express watching the countryside fly by with the smuggled out copy of Mind Magick stashed in his trunk he vowed to himself that he would learn all he could about Mind Magick, no matter how long it took so that the people he cared about wouldn't be hurt ever again because of him.

And this was how Harry ended up sitting in the middle of his room staring up at the ceiling contemplating how to convince fate that he would no longer be her whipping-boy.

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm sorry Harry but the ferocious beasties (and fans) only try to eat you because you taste delicious... yummy

The next chapter should be up soon!

-Marcielle-


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic

**Author: **Marcielle

**Summary: **In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince we see Harry become both a potions and DADA genius while learning more than he ever thought about one Tom Marvolo Riddle. But what would Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts be like if Harry was a different person?

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter the battle of Hogwarts would not have happened because Harry would have gotten a Gandalf stick and the Gryffindor sword and waved it in Voldemort's face shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" and Voldemort would have cried because Harry Potter is too awesome for him to beat. Since the Harry Potter series isn't like this I'm pretty sure you know I'm not J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: **I forgot why I put this here... maybe it is just to keep you distracted from the absolute awesomeness of Harry and Dumbledore in this chapter... yeah that's it!

Read and Enjoy

-Marcielle-

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><p><strong>Previously in Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic:<strong>

Sprawling out on his floor Harry stared up at the ceiling, picking out the cracks and spider webs that had accumulated while he had been at Hogwarts and then in a raspy interpretation of Professor Trelawney _"__I predict that Voldemort or someone affiliated with Voldemort will do something evil, I will almost die because of something the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher does and some ferocious beastie will try to eat me because I taste delicious. So Mote It Be.__"_

Unfortunately, as soon as Harry finished his fake prophesy he burst out laughing.

"This year is going to make me go bald... I just know it" Harry muttered forlornly as he went back to packing.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: <strong>_**Shenanigans**_

Since the arrival of Dumbledore's letter, Harry had become easily distracted and fidgety, thereby giving up on reading Mind Magick due to his complete lack of focus. However, Harry could seem to focus on Dumbledore's letter, in fact that was the only thing he _could_ think about really. Since its arrival three days ago, Harry had lost track of how many times he had read the letter while eagerly anticipating being picked up from the Dursley's and taken to the Burrow. Harry was also curious about the 'matter' which Dumbledore required his assistance with, his moody thoughts about the past few years pushed to the back of his mind to deal with at a later date.

It was sad really... Harry had memorised the letter, word for word, last evening and was currently reciting it again in his head just to be sure that he hadn't missed anything:

_Dear Harry, _

_If it is convenient to you I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays._

_If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you._

_Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday._

_I am, yours most sincerely,_

_-Albus Dumbledore-_

Though he already knew it by heart, Harry still caught himself stealing glances at the parchment itself, which was currently lying innocently on his desk, every few minutes since seven o'clock that evening when he had first moved his desk chair to his current position beside his bedroom window. Between looking out the window intermittently and stealing glances at the parchment, Harry's concentration was completely absorbed. As the alarm clock on his desk clicked, ever closer, to eleven p.m. Harry's eyes became glued to the window, searching for even the slightest hint of Dumbledore's presence while the alarm clocks neon green numbers taunted him with their slow speed.

Harry knew what he was doing was pointless and just a little bit pathetic; reading and re-reading the missive in his head while eagerly peeking out his window like a high school girl waiting for her date to arrive... Truly, he was acting quite pathetic but he couldn't help it. Harry hated the Dursley's for the way they had treated him over the years and he really wanted to leave if given the option. So if waiting for Dumbledore to turn up, like a love sick teenage girl would get him out of Privet Drive then dress him in drag because he wanted **_out_**.

Harry had sent his reply with a frantic "YES" with the owl that had delivered the original message, as requested but all he could do now was wait; either Dumbledore was going to come of he was not...

'I forgot just _how much_ I hate the waiting game...' Harry thought to himself with a dark chuckle.

While waiting, Harry had cleaned his room from top to bottom and sorted through his meagre amount of belongings, deciding what to keep and what to throw out. Almost ninety percent of Harry's clothes didn't fit him either because they were too large (Dudley's hand-me-downs) or they were too small because he grew out of them years ago and was only keeping them because he had nothing else. But this time, Harry figured he could shop for more clothing in Diagon Alley. He certainly deserved a shopping spree after all the crap he had been put through.

Harry had already packed his trunk with all of his school books and supplies, clothing and wizarding robes that still fit him and mementos that he had collected over the years like his photo album, invisibility cloak and the Maraunder's Map. The stolen copy of Mind Magick had also been stashed secretly between two pairs of boxers which pretty much guaranteed that Hermione or Ron wouldn't find it if they rummaged through his trunk. Now the large trunk was lying at the end of his bed, his initials clearly embossed in gold on the top of the trunk.

Just as Harry's alarm clock flashed 11:00 P.M. the streetlamp outside Harry's window went out suddenly with a sharp flicker. Harry was up from his seat by the window in a second with his wand held tightly in his now slightly clammy hands and his feet spread out into a duelling stance as he peered out into the darkness. Pressing his nose to the window, Harry's glasses slid down from their place at the top of his nose and clinked as their wire frames made contact with the glass while Harry squinted down at the street trying to see anything in the gloom of the night. Then out of the corner of his eye Harry glimpsed a tall figure in a long billowing cloak, striding gracefully up the front garden path with their silvery beard glowing slightly in the light of the moon when it peaked out of the folds of the cloak as the figure approached the front door of number four, Privet Drive.

"Dumbledore," Harry decisively whispered to himself with a nod as he put his wand back into the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed his trunk from his bed and Hedwig's cage from his desk with Hedwig safely inside.

Downstairs, Harry heard the sound of the doorbell ringing only to be followed by Uncle Vernon's shout of, "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?"

At the sound of his uncle's shout, Harry froze with the doorknob firmly in his hand. 'Crap!' thought Harry; he didn't know whether it was just out of spite or simply because he had completely forgotten but Harry hadn't told the Dursley's that Dumbledore might be coming this evening... 'Oops' thought Harry mischievously to himself at the thought of Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's reaction to having yet _another _wizard in their house let alone what their reaction to Dumbledore's presence would be. With that last mischievous thought gone with a smirk Harry wrenched open his bedroom door with his trunk in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other.

Harry walked slowly down the stairs trying to calm his inner laughter at the situation that he had created so that it wouldn't show on his face. For, if even a hint of a smirk or a smile was on his face and uncle Vernon saw it... well let's just say that his uncle would look more like a plum about to explode than a human.

Several steps from the bottom of the stairs Harry came to an abrupt halt, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm's reach of Uncle Vernon whenever possible and especially when he was angry or about to become angry. Harry was luckily just in time to see his uncle open the door and to hear Dumbledore's grandfatherly voice say, "Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

On the doorstep stood the most unlikely pair that Harry had ever seen; one Albus Dumbledore in all of his half-moon spectacle and silvery bearded glory and his Uncle Vernon who was currently wearing a puce dressing gown that his complexion was beginning to match as his black bushy moustache twitching in irritation as he stared at Headmaster Dumbledore as though he could not believe his eyes. Understandably it took all of Harry's focus and concentration not to burst out laughing at the sight. However, one small twitch of his lips into a slight smile revealed more than it hid of Harry's true emotions.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did _not_ warn you that I was coming," said Dumbledore pleasantly with a genial smile on his face and a joyous twinkle in his eyes. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times," continued the Headmaster as he let himself in by brushing past the stunned Uncle Vernon, stepping smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind himself in one quick move of gracefulness. "It is a long time since my last visit," said Dumbledore as he peered down his long, crooked, be speckled nose at Uncle Vernon. "I must say, your agapanthuses are flourishing."

Meanwhile on the stairs, Harry shook his head in amusement, another small smile gracing his chapped lips at the thought of just how _**Dumbledore**_ his actions were. Most people couldn't simply let themselves into other people's homes but Dumbledore did with a smile on his face and knowing Dumbledore, he would probably get away with it too...

Uncle Vernon appeared to be dumbstruck. Not that this was much of a difference from how he normally was in Harry's eyes... but Uncle Vernon had said nothing at Dumbledore's grand entrance. Only a bemused expression graced his uncle's face as if his tiny brain was trying to process what had just happened.

'We've been invaded!' Harry thought in a squeaky impersonation of his Uncle Vernon's poor little brain with a small chuckle. However, Harry did not doubt that the capability of speech would return to his uncle, and soon, if the vein that was pulsating in Uncle Vernon's temple was any indication.

"Ah, good evening Harry," said Dumbledore who was currently looking up at him though his half-moon spectacles with a most satisfied expression on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eye as if he was secretly pleased as punch to have thoroughly confused his uncle.

Truthfully, Harry felt sort of bad for his uncle because he knew, first hand, just how confusing and frustrating Dumbledore could be sometimes... No, make that _all_ of the time. Currently, Harry was just pleased that he wasn't on the receiving end of Dumbledore's shenanigans.

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><p><strong>AN: **I know it was short but well... this length just seemed to fit and I liked how it ended.

Feel free to review with your thoughts and comments!

-Marcielle-


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